Nothing to Prove
by rippnercullen
Summary: Lisa's mundane life is about to be broken by the return of Mr Rippner. NEW. Rated for Violence, Sexual Content etc
1. Lisa's Dreams

New story! Huzzah! It's probably going to be quite long, so sit down and prepare for a long ride :D

I hope you enjoy this story!

God, it was so hot in the hotel.

Lisa fanned herself with the copy of the local newspaper, desperately trying to cool down, as she strode across the lobby of the Lux Atlantic, leaving Cynthia in the managerial position for the next three days. Her flame haired friend had been surprisingly accommodating about Lisa's request for leave, she knew what the next few days meant to her boss.

The anniversary of the event that haunted Lisa's nightmares was tomorrow and she really needed a little time off to recuperate.

So Cynthia waved her boss goodbye, leaving Lisa with a bright smile before she tottered off to see to the checking in customers. Lisa turned and smiled, Cynthia had learnt a lot seen the Keefe incident.

She had become more independent; more headstrong. It pleased her to see her friend taking control of the situation and had thanked her for days when she immediately agreed to cover Lisa's shifts.  
A faint smile crossed Lisa's face as she opened the door to the Lux, humming happily to herself.

Her happiness was short lived when she discovered the torrential rain that poured down outside the hotel.  
_Oh hell. But the hotel was so ho- Oh shit. You left your umbrella in the car Lisa. Idiot.  
_A frown crossed her face; raising the paper she had been fanning herself with over her head as she began to run down the steps to the hotel. The rain hammered down above her, soaking her clothes but leaving her head relatively dry due to her ingenious umbrella substitute. As she reached her car she began to rummage for her keys, fingers searching feverishly through the mass of stuff that settled in her bag.

With a grunt her hand slipped sending her bag crashing to the floor, spilling her purse and Blackberry clattering onto the wet tarmac.

"Fucking hell," she cursed, throwing the paper shielding her head to the ground, kneeling to grab her stuff. Throwing the freshly soaking Blackberry and wallet back into the bag, she removed the keys and thrust them into the lock, toppling inside the car as fast as she could.

Breathlessly, Lisa realigned herself into a somewhat acceptable driving position, her hair dripping water into her eyes. A number of swear words passed her lips as she drove home, road rage making a frequent appearance. This wasn't the greatest start to the peaceful long weekend that she had wanted.

It was 7PM by the time she pulled up outside her home. Joe Reisert's house had been her living area for months- she couldn't bring herself to be alone. But finally she had transitioned in the last month back to her own house, which in truth was only a short drive from her Fathers.

The grocery stop had caused another hour to be added to her journey home, the choice between crunchy and smooth peanut butter always puzzled her.

The jar of 'Crunchy' was now sitting, opened, on her kitchen counter as she unloaded the rest of the groceries into the correct cupboards. After screwing the top back onto the peanut butter, watching the 'Friends' marathon on the TV and double checking the security locks on the doors and windows she decided to retire to bed.

She brushed her hair neatly; as she always did. Her pyjamas were buttoned up to the neck; as they always were. Her comforter was folded neatly; as it always was. Sometimes Lisa wished she wasn't so neat. Sometimes she wished that she had the courage to paint her walls bright yellow, to cut her hair, to get a tattoo, something, anything in an urge to rebel against herself. But somehow, the cream paint that donned her walls seemed to fit her life.

Bland.

Boring.

Safe.

She flicked the light off and turned onto her side. The light of the moon outside lit up her bedroom, casting a comforting shine across her possessions. She tossed and turned before settling on her back and opening her eyes with a sigh- sleeping wasn't a strong point of hers anymore.

Looking up at the ceiling above her bed, Lisa began to appreciate the safety that her house resonated, the smooth lines of the counter tops and the sideboards, the pictures of her family that rested on the shelves, the set of knives that she kept in her bedside table.

And of course, the police call button that rested next to her as she slept, glowing in the dark so she could always find it if…

If.  
If was something Lisa never liked to think about.

She just carried on with life, living like a statue: always perfect- but empty of emotion. All emotions except two.

The first that crowded her mind was fear. A fear of if. If he returned. If her Father would end up disembowelled in the living room. If she wouldn't wake up one day. Fear of a 12 inch KA Bar scratching at her window.

The second emotion that riddled her mind and body was far more confusing to her. As she would lie there in bed, thoughts would continually creep into her mind- just as they did tonight. Thought's she didn't want and shouldn't have about Jackson Rippner.

A shiver of terror ran up her spine as his image stabbed itself back into her brain. _Jackson Rippner. _The man who had ruined her life. Safely behind bars now, of course but…he still dominated her life. In more ways that her obsession with being safe.  
In her dreams she could see him clearly, tying her down, pulling her hair, making her scream. In ecstasy. Not in pain.

She would wake every morning covered in a thin layer of cold sweat, raking her hair away from her flushed face whilst trying to control her trembles. The shaking feeling in her stomach would remain the entire day, until the next evening when the dreams would happen all over again. Vicious circle was an understatement.

Now though, he wracked her thoughts even as she was awake. Pushing the thoughts of the terrorism and hurt from her mind, his icy blue eyes came clearly into her mind. Those full, pouting lips that brought smooth, malicious words to her ears. The smirk that played around his mouth, lighting up those piercing eyes as they saw straight through her. She took herself back to the plane bathroom, her failed attempt to get help.

One of her regular imaginations was what she dearly wished had happened in that bathroom, things she could only imagine and never have. One of her hands slithered underneath the covers of her bed and into the waistband of her pyjamas. Moving her hand slowly over the sensitive bundle of nerves, her mind began to dream.

_The Dream-Jackson slammed her roughly into the bathroom wall, as he always did. Keeping his hand around her throat, his other hand moved slowly down her face, running over her lips. Smirk in place, he replaced his finger with his lips, pressing down upon her. Although she felt the electric sparks between then and the arousal he caused her she fought against him, before he pressed his hand harder onto her windpipe, and she was warned, wordlessly, to submit._

Opening her mouth slightly, she began to receive his kiss. Lips collided together sweetly, slowly, burning her mouth with a desire to have him.  
A sudden terror racked through her and her lips stopped moving, teeth threatening to bite down on his lips. A deep growl erupted in his chest, animalistic and raw, before he slammed her into the other wall, forcing his tongue into her mouth, willing her to return the kiss. A fire blazed in her heart as she began to fight for dominance, their tongues battling for their survival. Lisa was bound to fail. As his hand wound its way up her sensitive thigh, she let out a load moan into his mouth. He immediately pulled back, anger twitching in his tense jaw. 

_He clamped his hand over her mouth, eyes flashing as a warning._

"_Lisa, if you make even one noise, so help me, I will hurt you. And you know what I can do," he hissed into her ear, lips so close to her skin. Lisa nodded feverishly, wishing the hand to continue its journey up her leg. Soon she would explode.  
The hand over her mouth moved to her chin, wrenching her head to the side as his lips planted themselves onto her neck. Gasping, she bit her lip to keep the noise in as his teeth sank into the soft flesh under her ear. _

_The hand on her thigh continued to move upwards, taunting her as it moved smoothly to her sensitive area and back down to her knee again. This torturous exercise continued until he had enough of her gasps and moans and his overwhelming dominance began again. Her shirt was ripped in two by his strong hands as she moved up to tear his jacket and shirt off of his sculpted chest. _

_Feverishly, he pushed her backwards against the sink, wrenching the nylon tights from her legs and forcing her knees apart. Lisa's hands ran over his belt as Jackson moved back up to capture her lips in a vicious kiss. When he thrust himself into her it took all of her strength not to cry out. _

_They moved together with utter ease, fitting perfectly. As if they were made for each other. Jackson's lips were on her neck, lips, breasts. His fingers flitted over her clit, nipples and wrenched her hair back occasionally. He was everywhere, moving within her. Controlling her. The dominance told her who she belong to. Reminded her who was in charge here. He reminded her who he was. Jackson Rippner. And this was how Jackson Rippner fucked a woman. _

At this point Lisa's hand would bring her to orgasm, leaving her sweating and writhing under the covers in her bed. On this particular night his name escaped her lips as she came.

"Jackson!" echoed through the house, reverberating around her bedroom as the waves of pleasure swept over her.

In the cold sweat she remained, removing her hand, before turning over and pulling the covers up to her chin. This was the only way to get a peaceful night's sleep. He haunted her everyday; his presence was still there- he was in her head. But of course he wasn't. He was locked away. Her torture would never end, her sexual desires, no, sexual needs would never be fulfilled.

She highly doubted that Jackson Rippner would touch her anyway, probably only with a knife or a gun. Lisa sighed as she wrapped the covers closer; did she really want his touch? Maybe this was all just a sick fantasy, maybe she did need help. Lisa was terrified of this man, yet he brought her such wild dreams and she couldn't figure out why. Putting it down to masochism or insanity, she drifted off to sleep.

Had she been aware of the man who watched from her window, who heard her scream his name in pleasure she would have never slept again. Jackson smirked down at her sleeping form, the rain sticking the hair to his forehead.

"Soon Lisa, soon." He hissed, turning off into the night.


	2. Eggs at 3AM

Thanks for the reviews guys! Let's get more of those! C'mon my 'Taken' fans read! You don't have to have seen the fan to read the fiction! :D

The clock beside Lisa's bed chimed 3AM with three little beeps bringing the girl from her uneasy slumber. At least her dreams were no longer about Jackson, they were more about replaying her own emotions throughout the Red Eye event.

_Eurgh. 3AM. Time for eggs I suppose. _

Running her hands through her curls, she threw the duvet away from her reveling in the cool freshness of the morning air. The curtains revealed that it was still dark outside, the rain of yesterday leaving only the faint impression of morning dew on the lawn in front of her house.

With a sigh she stumbled groggily to the kitchen. Mornings were not her strong point, but somehow she could never resist her cravings for eggs at 3AM. Said eggs were now cooking away in the saucepan that sat on her stove, steaming away. Lisa turned to the kitchen window, opening the blinds to look outside at her neighborhood.  
It was a quiet place, far enough from the city to be peaceful but near enough that Lisa never felt too alone. Taking a key from the windowsill, she pulled up the window, smiling widely as the cool air rolled into her kitchen, ruffling her hair and dispersing the steam of her eggs into the night.

It was a pleasant day until she turned back to look at her eggs, where the calendar sat above the stove, pinned down to a corkboard next to her hotel files and papers. A big red circle enclosed today's date with a tiny note written in Lisa's trembling hand.

**DAY OF THE RED EYE. **

A sob wracked up around her throat but she held it down, blinking rapidly against the tears. She had one, he was the one who had failed and look where this whole mission had gotten him- locked away in prison. Repeating this thought over and over helped to calm the nervous feeling in her stomach as she stirred the eggs again.

Her Father was alive, Keefe was alive and she was alive, so Lisa knew that Jackson had failed. He probably tossed and turned in prison mulling over his failure- she liked that thought. Jackson's mind taunted and mocked by her victory over him. It gave her back a little of the dominance he had taken from her.

_Christ. Getting over the rape was easier than this. _

As her mind flooded with thoughts she began to drift into another daydream, only to be brought out of it sharply when a piece of hot oil flicked onto her arm, burning her quickly. She yelped loudly and in a jump reaction, flung the saucepan she was holding onto the floor, spilling the scrambled eggs that she had taken such care in preparing.

Fumbling her way to the sink cursing and swearing under her breath and turned the cold-water tap on and thrust her burn underneath the cool water. A wave of relief washed over her.

_Dammit Lisa, concentrate. Just get today over with. _

She waited five minutes, her head bent, eyes shut, trying to breathe her stress away before she turned back to her accident. The damage on the kitchen floor was worse than she had expected- oil everywhere and pieces of egg strewn across the floor.

"Oh fucking hell Lisa. Nice one," she mumbled to herself, getting down on her knees, taking a cloth from the sink.

She moved the saucepan onto the countertop and knelt back down, sighing deeply as she began to wipe up the slop.

"No eggs for you Lisa. You eat too many anyway," she hissed to herself as she scrubbed the tiles. A drip of sweat ran down her face from the scrubbing, which concerned her somewhat, causing her repetitive actions to stop.

_Didn't I open the window?_

Staying on the floor but turning her head, she saw that the window she had only opened. She remembered the cool breeze that calmed her so.

_Don't worry Lisa. It was probably just the wind. Why didn't I hear it? It must've slammed shut when I dropped the saucepan. Don't worry. It's all fine. _

Although her heart rate was still terribly fast, she couldn't' shake the feeling that something was wrong. Her window was very solid, a pull up frame- she definitely would have heard something. Unless the window had been pulled down slowly, and hitched back silently by someone.

No, that couldn't happen. Silently, she turned back to scrubbing. Something blocked her view.

Immediately Lisa's stomach retched as if she was going to throw up. She knew who this was, who had shut her window so she wouldn't be heard by anyone, who had been watching her since god knows when. She never felt alone because she never was, he was always with her mentally. But now….physically.

_He's here. He's here! Oh godohgodohgod…._

Lisa sat back on her heels, her head still bent down, looking at the floor. The dishcloth was thrown back into the sink and she dried her hands thoroughly on the towel before she got to her feet and finally looked up at him.

He hadn't changed. The same floppy brown hair, slightly wavy, he still dressed like he was going to an office: white shirt, pressed grey trousers and grey blazer jacket. His eyes, exactly the same- still glaring, still cold and still beautiful. The smirk was positioned on his face exactly where she had left it.

"Hey Lis," he said. No rasp in his voice, not even a wheeze- her pen trick obviously only temporarily harmed him or he had a bloody good doctor. The smooth greeting sent a shiver of terror down her spine. She was stood here, in her pajama's, not even running from a man who wanted her dead more than anything in the world.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, quietly. _Don't run Lisa. You can't; he'll just catch you. What am I going to do? _Her eye ran over the set of knives she used for cooking by the stove, she could definitely reach them….couldn't she?

"Well Lis, I'm here to see you." He said, his smile pulling further into the wolfish smirk she had dreamt about not even four hours ago.

"How did you get out of prison?" she snapped, startled. "I saw you go down! I was at the trial!"

He laughed audibly, leaning one of his hands against her worktop. "When you're as good as me Lis, people don't want you behind bars for long. I was in all of….two days, I think. I failed one mission, that doesn't condemn you to a life in the pen."

Lisa's heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. She knew he was on the verge of a criminal and a government worker and this had confirmed it for her. "Get out of my kitchen."

"Oh, where shall I go? The bedroom?" he chuckled, darkly.

A red blush settled over her face in anger as he taunted her. _He couldn't possibly know…._  
In a flash of movement she twisted sideways, her hand clutching around the largest knife and dragging it from the wooden block. The next set of actions all happened too fast for Lisa to comprehend. A blow to her head confused her for a moment- no way he could move that fast. A large hand grabbed her wrist and twisted it upwards, forcing her to drop the knife, whilst another took control of her other arm and wrenched it up behind her back. He stood behind her, totally silent, totally deadly and efficient. As soon as she had dropped the knife she knew she was dead. There was that deadly glare he had in his eyes, that terrifying assertion that she would be bleeding and pleading him to let her live later on tonight. _I will not let him. I will NOT let him. Fight him Lisa! _

The knife clattered to the floor next to her foot, causing a squeal to escape her lips as she thought it might stab her soft skin. The hand that grabbed her wrist moved up to her throat as he pulled the both backwards, away from the kitchen units. He tugged on the arm he was holding behind her back, ripping a small cry from Lisa's throat in pain.

"Best not to try me tonight Miss Reisert. It certainly wouldn't be healthy for you," he snarled into her ear. His breath was a little too close for Lisa to handle and her breath picked up and she forced herself to close her eyes. _Come on Lisa. Concentrate._

"Let me go. Now!" she demanded, struggling against his grip. The hand around her throat tightened threateningly, stilling her struggles.

"What do you dream about Lis?"

Lisa stood absolutely still, horrified by his question. He HAD been watching her, he knew about…_Oh fuck._

"Let me go right now Jack!" she screamed, her voice slightly raspy from his tight grip around her neck.

"My name is Jackson," he hissed. His lips moved so close to her ear that she could feel them, feather light against her skin. "And I know you know that. I hear you say it sometimes. I hear you scream it sometimes."

She felt the smirk against her ear, sickening her, damning her. Levering her arm backwards, she elbowed him hard in the stomach. He let out an anguished cry, his hands releasing her accidently. It only took her a moment before she began to run out of the kitchen. She needed to get to the front door.

_No! Wait! The police help button. Bedroom, now! Hurry!_

Lisa's legs couldn't have moved faster as she sprinted down the hallway to the bedroom. The lamp was still on from earlier, lighting up the mess on her bedside table. She paused, disbelievingly. That mess was her police call button, ripped to pieces. It had been done with utter dexterity; she could tell that from the way the electrical piece were still whole- stopping her communication without alerting the police.

The knives in her bedside drawers! As her hands reached out to touch the cool metal a heavy weight collided with her back. She screamed and writhed under his weight, desperately trying to push him off of her. Jackson's legs straddled her lap, pushing her down into the mattress. One of his hands resumed it's natural place at her throat.

"How quaint Lis, but do you really think you're leaving me now?" he snarled. His cold eyes flashed above her, resonating terror throughout her body.

As tears welled up in her eyes she shuddered in horror. "Please Jackson, don't-"

"Don't what Lis?"

"Don't kill me, please. Please."

The smirk was back. "I love it when you beg me. It's adorable. But no, my intention never was to kill you Lisa."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Then what-?" she began. She paused as his hand began to trail down her neck and over her chest. "No. Nonono!" She began thrashing and screaming underneath him, her eyes wide and terrified.

"Calm yourself Lis, you'll get a stitch," he warned, tightening his strangle. "I'm not going to rape you."

"Then why are you here? Why can't you just get out of my life?" she hissed, scathingly.

"Don't say you're not slightly glad to see me back. You've been on your own ever since the Red Eye. And you'll continue to be alone unless I'm here. I've seen you at night Lis, I know the only way you can keep me out of your dreams…"

"You disgusting pervert."

"I'm offended Lis, if anything you're the pervert for thinking such bad thoughts about yours truly. You filthy girl."

"You sicken me Jackson. I think nothing of you. Actually no, I think you're a disgusting little shit who I stomped into the ground last year. You failed, now get out of my life." She shouted, breathing heavily under his grip.

The bone in his jaw twitched and his expression darkened, giving Lisa the impression she should have kept her opinions to herself. He pulled her up off the mattress by the throat and held her face very close to his.

"Understand me Lis, you haven't won shit. And I've not even begun to compete yet, so I suggest you keep your little mouth shut before I do something drastic." He whispered, gently but deadly.

"I beat you into the dirt! We shot you, I stabbed you I-"

He shoved her back down to the mattress, grabbing one of the knives from her drawer. "Okay Lis, this is your doing. Who do you wanna fuck first; me or the knife?" he shouted manically. He twisted the cold metal in front of her face, bringing the flat of the blade down to her chest. Lisa shivered under the chill of the steel, too terrified to move.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Jackson, don't. Stop." He removed the blade from her and placed it back down, pulling her back up by the collar of her pajamas. Avoiding his gaze was a hard thing to do but somehow she managed to escape his eyes, not wanting to feel the cold stab of their glare on her skin.

"Lis, look at me. Now." He commanded. Refusing to do so, she just shook her head slightly. He lowered her head away from him, landing a hard slap on her cheek before bringing her back up to his face. "Wake up Lis, you can't beat me now. Daddy's not here. D'aww. What a shame." He cooed sarcastically at her, smirk in full flourish. "You are going to obey me, because I can do things to you that will keep you on the verge of death for days. The agony I can give to you Reisert…"

She could take no more. The image of those lips saying such horrors in front of her was too much. Call it a distraction; a way to make him shut up so she could think but it was also something she had wanted for months.

She reached up with her head and pressed her lips gently onto his. For a moment he seemed shocked and his eyes remained tensely open but after a few seconds he adjusted to her touch and began to kiss back. The first moments was a delicate touch, their lips moving together lightly before they both realized who it was they were kissing. It was Lisa that remembered first; this was her murderer. Immediately her kisses changed, more forcefully, less innocent. Jackson recognized this and began their battle for dominance through the kiss. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, tasting what he could of her. Lisa ran her hands through his hair, tugging on the locks wanting to cause him pain and his mirrored her actions, drawing a moan from her mouth. They fought for what seemed like hours, but was merely seconds in reality before Lisa turned her head and broke their kiss.

They knelt in silence together, panting slightly in the heat that washed over them.

"Lis, get your suitcase and fill it. We're leaving." Jackson moved from the bed, throwing her back against the pillows. He stood, readjusting his shirt before turning back to her. "Do I need to ask twice?"

"Why? Where am I going?" she asked, angrily. She regretted that kiss the instant it was instigated. Why couldn't she leave her desires to her dreams?

"We're going away from here. My house. I always said I was going to steal you but it seems you'll come a little more willingly than I thought." He smirked, opening a drawer and throwing some clothes at her. "I'll wait in the kitchen."

"But-" she began. But he had already departed.

She sighed deeply, it wasn't really as if she had a choice anymore. And deep down, she knew that she would resist but enjoy his advances all the same. She didn't want this at all, but in the same way it was the rebellion she had always wanted. She wanted him, in the sick twisted masochistic way that she saw as wrong.

Nevertheless, she picked up the clothes and began to pack.


	3. Speed Limits

Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! I feel as if I have matured as a writer myself now and it's wonderful to see that you think so too! And don't worry Mrs. Twilight- this will be nothing like Taken though it may appear so at first, it's less supernatural, more real with a much deeper plot. Hope you guys enjoy it. I'll post the news chapter tomorrow.

The car was as she had imagined it; shiny, black and fast. The badge read 'Porsche' but Lisa's knowledge of cars wasn't the greatest in the world. She craned her head as she got in the car to try and get a good look at the number plates, maybe the police could track him or….something?

Jackson's sharp eyes caught her actions and forcefully pushed her into the car, slamming the door behind her. He moved back to getting her suitcase into the back of his Beamer. If anything, Jackson was a little too proud of his car. A black, sleek BMW M5, supercharged, incredibly fast. With a smug smile he shut the boot, moving back to the drivers seat and his captive.

"Belt up Lis," he said, nodding towards her seatbelt.

She jumped slightly at the break in their awkward silence, flinching away from him. The motion caused a chuckle to emit from Jackson, drawing a glare from Lisa.

"You're so flinchy, Lis," he laughed, turning the keys in the ignition and beginning to back out of her driveway.

"Well, I wonder why?" she replied sarcastically, fire burning in her eyes.

"Oh come on Lis, I'm not going to murder you," he sighed, rolling his eyes and leaning back into the leather seat. The morning was still dark; Lisa could barely see her neighbour's houses from the car. 3.40AM and three days to go before anyone would realise that she was missing. Damn.

"Maybe not, but how can I trust you to keep your word? It's not like you haven't tried to before," she said, bitterly.

"You can't Lis, but that's your problem. I told you, I would never tell you a lie. I've decided that killing you would be excellent but ultimately unsatisfying. There are a lot of things worse than death, you know Lis, a lot of things," he hissed, a ragged snarl lying just under the smoothness of his voice.

"This is exactly what I mean, Jack. Stop with the fucking mystery and just tell me what you're going to do. The suspense is enough; I'm here with you now. Just fucking _tell me_!" she shouted, maniacally.

Jackson swerved the car to the side of the road, throwing Lisa into the side of the door. Letting out a scream, her head bashed into the window, a crack emitting from her skull. The car screeched to a halt as Lisa turned to Jackson, rubbing her head in anger.

"What the fuck Jack? What are you trying to do? Get us both ki-?" she was cut off mid-sentence by a hand that slammed her backwards into the leather seat by her throat. Jackson's face was inches from hers, blue eyes cold and warning.

"Lis, I don't like it when you talk to me like that."

"It's not….like you don't talk…to me…like that," she wheezed under his grip.

Jackson smirked into her cheek, the rough stubble on his face grazing her skin. "Surely this isn't healthy for you Lis, always being under my thumb. Maybe it would be better for you to just obey. Just…let me win."

His hand released her throat, shoving her backwards as he looked back to the road, starting to drive back down the road. There was silence for a couple of minutes as Lisa looked out of the window watching the streetlights flicker over her head repeatedly, ticking the seconds away. There was a moment when all that could be heard was Jackson's heavy, stressed breathing and Lisa's soft pants and the sliding her fingers over her crushed throat.

She rested her chin on her hand, leaning her forehead against the cold windowpane, letting out a deep breath as she shut her eyes.

"Lis, we're going to be a while in this car, we might as well talk."

Opening her eyes against the glass, she yawned and looked back at him. "Jackson, it's four in the morning, you've forcefully removed me from my house and are taking me God knows where. I'm tired. Let me rest," she replied, her voice strained.

Jackson rolled his eyes, a frown gracing his face. "No dice Lis, you can sleep when we get there. You were about to make eggs, you can't be that fucking tired." He snapped, harshly.

Lisa groaned as she felt his hand pulled her shoulder back to face the windscreen. "Fine, fine…" she rubbed her eyes and stretched out her arms, trying to keep herself awake. "Topic of conversation?"

"You decide."

"Well, I don't know what to talk about do I?"

"How about what were you dreaming last night?"

"Not that."

"Then _you _decide."

"I already told you I don't you what to s-"

"Then how about a Q and A session Lis? I'll answer, you answer. Call it a get-to-know-each-other talk. It's only fair."

Lisa leant back in the seat, crossing her arms in a strop. "Fine. How about where are we going?"

"I already told you. We're going to my house," he replied, turning the car down a back lane. They had come off the motorway and were beginning to head into thicker, denser areas.

"Where do you live?" she asked, actually getting rather curious. Jackson knew so much information about her life, yet she knew nothing of his. It added to his threat of mystery made him more dangerous if anything. Lisa couldn't imagine him in a house, like every other ordinary person.

"North Palm Beach in a house near the shore," he answered, blankly.

This took her aback even further. In such a crowded place, did his neighbours know a hired killer was living near them? She couldn't imagine he could own a house in such a sunny and open place.

"Your turn up Lis, my go." He smirked, flicking the switch on the AC. "Why did you scream my name last night? Not that I mind, but…."

"Eurgh, not that Jackson."

"Oh, _not that Jackson,_" he mimicked, sticking his tongue out. "I'll find out in due course Lis. So there's no harm in telling me now."

"Because I'm a twisted fuck up. Happy?" she snarled, glaring icily at him.

"Very."

She let out a breath of disgust before turning her head away from him and putting her feet up on the dashboard. "Hey, no feet on the Beamer Lis," Jackson ordered, slapping her leg from his seat.

"Ouch, why not? It's just a car," she said, smirking. _This'll get on his nerves_. She rose her feet higher, leaving marks from the rubber on her shoes upon the dash.

"Do you realise how much this thing cost me?" he replied, angrily. His hand came down firmer on her leg, sending a quiver of excitement up her spine. All the same, she removed her feet and gave him a triumphant smile.

"I think I may have just found something you love more than your hair," she murmured, sarcastically.

"Hey, people love the Beamer. And the Jag. But no-one, _no-one_ touches the hair," he replied, half heartedly, concentrating on the road ahead.

Lisa snickered under her breath, then leant forwards and took a lock of his hair in her hand. "I can touch it just fine." She said, smirking.

Jackson wrenched his head away, and then shoved his elbow into her, forcing her back down. "Lis, if you don't want me to crash this damn car then stop pissing around and sit down."

She let out a dismissive noise, turning her head away from him. _How on earth am I meant to get out of this damn car? Or call someone? I need a phone…a phone. He has one in the pocket of his jacket but how the hell am I meant to get that, unless….can you stomach that Lisa? Get out now before you get to his house though, once you're there you're dead. Gone from the world as we know it. _

Taking in a massive gulp of air she turned her body back to Jackson, a lopsided smirk settled on her face. "You know nothing of distractions Jack," she hissed, leaning over to him. It was a quiet road, just lined with loads of trees, no other cars for them to crash into so she carried ahead with her plan, unlatching her seatbelt.

Lisa's left hand moved up to his ear and swept back the dark brown locks, moving her head forwards.

"Lis-" he began, sternly.

Lisa moved her hand up to his mouth, pressing a finger to his lips. Her stomach felt like she was going to throw up but if this was all she had to do to get a sliver of hope of escape then she could manage this. She'd overcome rape she was a big girl now- but somehow that seemed easier than this.

Pressing her lips onto his neck, the skin just below his ear, she felt the lips on her finger part. Jackson drew in a harsh breath, clearly intrigued by her actions.

"I was dreaming about you," she whispered, her lips running over his ear smoothly. He seemed to really like the neck thing, it really distracted him and it took all he had to concentrate on the road. Just as she had planned.

Her right hand moved swiftly to his jacket pocket, diving in and removing the mobile phone, whilst pressing her body against his side so he would not miss the weight of it gone. Moving her hand back, she threw the phone underneath her into the side pocket of the BMW, out of his sight. Jackson was still breathing heavily as Lisa drew back, sitting back down into her seat feeling slightly sick from her last actions.

Another awkward silence ran over the car, as Jackson began to regulate his breaths. "What the fuck was that Lis?" he asked.

His voice was a little too quiet for Lisa to feel comfortable, a little too eerie. The calm before the storm. He couldn't suspect something? Surely?

"I was just…doing what you always do to me. Not nice is it?" she snapped, crossing her arms.

"You're such a fucking bitch Lis, I was just giving you what you want."

"What I want? You think I want to me taken away from my home by some fucking murderer?" she shouted, eyes flaring angrily.

"Then what was the dream about Lis? I suppose you were just screaming my name in agony were you? I think not Lis, I'm quite experienced in cries of ecstasy," he growled, a temper growing under his calm exterior.

"You have no idea what's going on in my mind, Jack. I suggest you shut your trap about things you don't know." She yelled, her face flushing in anger.

Jackson raised his hand as if to backhand her, but stopped himself before he touched her skin, just watching her flinch backwards into the window.

"I suggest you take my advice and shut up Lis, before you get hurt." His cold eyes flashed, a final warning before something worse happened.

Sighing loudly she leant back in her seat. "Can I get in the back?" she asked.

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired and I can lie down on the seats or something, you can just listen to music or something can't you? My company probably isn't the greatest for driving," she said, yawning.

Jackson viewed her from the corner of his eye before slamming his foot on the brakes and motioning with his head. "Go."

Lisa smiled happily and opened the door, reaching down to grab the phone silently before slamming it shut. Out in the fresh air she debated whether or not she should just run now. But it was so dark, so lonely out there that she couldn't go anywhere without the risk of getting lost.

She climbed into the back seat, lying down with her head by the driver's seat, so he couldn't see what she was doing on the phone. He must have turned on his iPod as she could see the glow of it on the dashboard. A low acoustic sound was emitting from the speakers, a guy with a rough voice but a smooth piano and guitar. Very un-Jackson like.

"What is this?" she asked, rather enjoying the calm music.

"City and Color," he replied, coldly. "Go to sleep."

The car began moving again, off into the darkness. Lisa immediately switched the phone to silent, so no one would give her game away. She dialled 911 and pressed the call button, holding it to her ear, pressing into the seat.

"911 Miami, fire police or-"

"Police, I need the police." She whispered very slightly. Not loud enough that Jackson would hear her over the music.

"Where is the exact location of your emergency?" the operator asked, their voice hushed, as if following her motive.

"I'm in a car but I'm not sure of my exact location. I know I'm probably going to arrive in North Palm Beach in about half an hour to a house on the shore, in a black BMW M5. Number plate, begins…N something…sorry." She whispered quickly.

"And the nature of your emergency?"

"I've been kidnapped by a man who wants to kill me." Lisa breathed.

"Okay, your name?"

Just as she went to answer something stopped her. Something was different, something….the car was no longer moving.

"Your name? Miss, please? Are you still there?" The car door opened quickly causing Lisa to look up momentarily.

Lisa opened her mouth as a hand clamped over it, wrenching the phone from her grasp. She screamed into his palm as he dropped the phone to the ground and crushed it with his foot. He pushed her head back down, slamming the door behind him silently.

"Jackson?" she whimpered from the seat. He climbed back into the drivers seat and threw the battered phone into the passengers seat all without a word.

"Jackson?" she repeated as the car began to move again. He no longer responded to her questions, simply staring straight ahead. She sat in silence for half an hour before he said a word.

"It wasn't traceable anyway Lisa. And we're not going to North Palm Beach, so your little mistake was incorrect anyway." He said, quietly.

"I thought you never lied to me Jack?" she laughed, bitterly.

The car screeched to a halt and Jackson turned around in his seat, a gun in his hand. "Do you want to die Lis? You keep testing me! Or I could just shoot you in the fucking kneecap? How about that?"

Lisa settled back in her seat, her eyes wide and shook her head. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. I won't test you again Jack."

"Jackson." He corrected.

"Fine, whatever. Get that gun out of my face."

"It's not in your face it's in my hand."

Lisa snorted and pushed the gun away from her, her heart settling into a better rhythm now. She decided against trying to push him whilst he was still in the car, uptight and armed. It would only get her hurt or killed in the end.

Tick.

Tock.

"How much longer have we got to go? We've been driving for hours!" Lisa complained, looking at the ceiling. It was light now, around 7AM and starting to get busier on the roads. They were still in the middle of a forest, trees outlined the road, closing in around the sleek car.

"About….now."

Lisa looked up to see a sign that read 'YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EVERGLADE CITY. PLEASE DRIVE SLOWLY.'

"You live in Everglade City?" she asked, unbelieving. Though, she supposed it seems like his kind of place. All big houses and solitude. Something he could show off to no-one.

And that's just what it was. He drove through the city and turned sharply out of it again. Five minutes later they pulled up to a driveway that was closed off by huge black iron gates. Jackson rolled down the window and pressed a code into a tiny silver box on the wall by the gates and they began to open smoothly.

Lisa looked on in awe at the house that lay before her. The grounds were a beautifully tended to, a large pond, hundreds of trees that were covered in blossoms due to the time of year.

The house itself perched on top of the driveway was an old-fashioned Tudor style, black and white on the outside with large white pillars holding the porch up. It stretched up over three floors, a garage spilling from the side of the mansion. She could imagine what it was like inside; period and classic but with a futuristic twist. Kind of Stepford Wives.

She shivered, getting out of the car.


	4. The House of Rippner

Thank you guys so much for the reviews! I love love love you all for your fabulous advice.

Inside the house was just as Lisa had imagined. It was a house, not a home. To her she was surprised Jackson even had a home, let alone one with a spiral staircase. The entrance hall was as grand as he could make it without being vulgar, black white and red being the main colour scheme of the building. The floor was covered in a thick black carpet, spotless, whilst the walls were painted a delicate white, covered in artistic pictures of old fashioned movies.

'CASABLANCA' caught her eye; one of her favourite films, along with 'MOULIN ROUGE'- all the pictures were held in a dark frame, but they added a colour to the monotoned room.

Two archways led off to what she could see was a large study, walled by old-fashioned bookshelves with vintage leather sofa's sprawled about the place. An old brass lamp hung over a red armchair; the only thing in the house that looked like it had been lived in. A discarded copy of 'American Psycho' lay on a small table next to the chair. What looked like an iMac was placed on the desk in the corner of the room, startling, in the contrast to the rest of the room.

_Typical, a horrific classic. Just like Jackson._

The other arch led to a more modern living room. A shiny black television hung upon the wall, gargantuan in size and highly expensive. Sofas of black leather sat on a carpet of red, brightening the room with its vibrant colour.

Lisa stepped further into the room, taking off her shoes carefully before placing them on the mat behind her. The staircase leading upstairs was pretty damn impressive; a curl of three spirals before it went out of sight. Hearing Jackson entering the house, she turned with an astonished look on her face.

"You are filthy rich Jack," she said, her eyes scanning the rooms around her. Dropping her eyes to his level she saw him closing the door quietly, then look up at her, sarcastically. Catching the glare that flashed from his eyes she coughed slightly, "Jack_son_."

"Well, the house is good. Not lived in much, but when I do it's nice to have the things I like surrounding me," he replied, dropping her suitcase to the floor. Lisa heard the lock click behind her, reminding her she would be here for the duration of his pleasure.

"Well, you certainly like a lot of things then."

"I like-," he stopped, casting a glance at her before turning back to the hallway. "I like books."

Lisa smiled widely and walked to the archway that held the library area. It really was a beautiful sight; typically gothic and intricate. Just how a library should be.

"You're very well read," she said, her fingers trailing over the spines of all the books. Old ones, new ones, paperbacks, hardbacks; they were all here. Her hand stopped on one title and pulled it from the shelf, raising one eyebrow.

"Harry Potter?" she asked, stifling a laugh.

Jackson let out a chuckle and shrugged. "Hey, I need to know the current culture."

He turned away from her, pulling the suitcase onto its wheels. "At least it's not Twilight, Lis."

"I suppose so," she laughed, walking back to the hallway.

"Follow me," he ordered, leaving her suitcase with her and beginning to walk off towards the staircase.

Dragging the suitcase behind her, she followed him up the steps, the case bumping against each step irritating her and tiring her arms out. By the time they reached the top of the great staircase she was very nearly sweating. A long hallway lay ahead of them, just a singular one, painted entirely white with more movie posters dotted along the sides. Four doors were set into the walls, two on either side whilst at the end of the hallway was a glass panel that shone over the entire wall, so one could see the ground below and feel as if you were going to fall down into it if you looked down long enough, letting light through into the massive hall. Jackson stopped at the first door on the right and opened it gently.

"Room." He muttered, holding the door open for her.

Stumbling past him she entered the room that would hold her captive until she could escape. Like the rest of the house, it was very pretty, laid out in red, black and white. A gigantic king size bed was situated at the end of the room, raised slightly on a platform. One wall was made entirely of a singular piece of mirror, shadowing her actions. The carpet was red, just as the living room downstairs with the same white walls. The bedding was black, along with a silvery coloured comforter along the bottom. There was little else in the room, just another door and a bay window that looked out over the garden.

Lisa moved over to the window and smiled at the view. It was a beautiful area below, a freshly mown back lawn that led down to a forestry area. The lawn held an elegant marble statue of a figure in the centre, but what it was she couldn't make out.

"You just keep impressing me," she said, irritably. "Show off."

"I'm just giving you a room Lis, seeing as you're going to be here for a while," he paused, looking back up at her.

_Lisa does look strangely beautiful here. To think, she knows nothing of what will become of her. But-_

His thoughts were interrupted as Lisa jumped from the windowsill and bounded down near to him.

"What do you mean exactly?" she questioned, her eyes blazing.

"I mean, Lis. You will remain in this house until I deci-"

"Are you going to kill me?" she asked.

For a moment Jackson was taken aback, not really knowing what to say. He thought for a moment, reviewing what he said earlier on that very day to her. _It'd be fun but ultimately unfulfilling. _

It had been his intention all along. Get her back to his house, keep her happy for a couple of days then just as she's sleeping or not suspecting it, slitting her throat and burning the body in the forest area. No trace that she'd ever existed. This still was his intention but…here she was now, her large doe eyes begging him not to hurt her. But, he was a ruthless killer there was no way he could be swayed. Leaving his emotions locked away, just as he always did, he glared at her and turned to the door.

"Get cleaned up Lis, have a rest or something. Lunch is at 1."

With that he turned on his heel and left. Slamming the door behind him, he leant against the wall outside her room, running his hands through his thick hair. This was all getting a bit much for Jackson. He slid down the wall, until he was sat with his knees bent on the plush carpet below. It was usually so much easier than this; he'd cut hundreds of women's throats before what made her so special? Maybe it was because she'd won….she'd won everything.

_NO. _Slowly getting to his feet, a grim smile twisted over his face. She would die, he could do it. Now, imagining the sight of her broken body covered in her blood….He stopped walking down the hallway and grimaced. It just wasn't a sight he wanted to see. Normally, that would excite him for the kill; the chase. But her….

Sighing, he began to walk down the stairs, raking his hair back stressfully. He strode through the living room, rounding the corner to the kitchen area. Slamming a glass down on the worktop he filled it full of a strong whisky and gulped it back. And another. And another.

_See what she's done to you Jackson. You're drinking in the morning now._

His eyes caught the gleam of his set of kitchen knives, and he reached across to grab one from the wooden holder. Blearily, his vision slightly slowed by the alcohol, he held the knife in the correct position to stab, the way he had been taught. Blade away from your own body, going up rather than down. Something about the cold steel metal was beautiful to him and he respected the power such a small instrument could have over people.

_Are you going to kill me? _

With an angry snarl he threw the knife down, bouncing it from the worktop.

_Are you going to kill me?_

Today wasn't going well. Throwing himself down on the sofa, Jackson folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling.

_Are you going to kill me?_

"No Lis. I can't."


	5. The Fall

Thanks for the lovely reviews guys! And yes, Jackson will be stricter soon, I promise. I'm so sorry that this chapter is really short but I wanted a punchy voyeuristic kind of chapter. But here's the next piece anyway. Also to answer your queries: This is just the beginning, Jackson gets a lot more nasty and Lisa may seem a little OOC, but well, here's this chapter…..

:D

Apologies that this chapter is really terrible but I won't have a chance to get another chapter out for another day so here you go

Lisa looked up at the clock that was situated upon the wall opposite her bed.

3PM.

Gosh, she'd been asleep for 8 hours and wasn't dead yet? Looking down at her body she took inventory. Nope, her clothes were unripped- no blood. This was strange; she was in Jackson's house; but totally unharmed. With a faint smile of relief she got to her feet, wriggling her toes on the soft carpet below. Jackson must've been downstairs, the door was still shut just as she had remembered. The remnants of tears were strewn down her face from his still unanswered question; she had expected not to wake up.

Turning to look out of the bay window that took up most of her room, a serene look of peace passed over her. It was strangely nice here, she was getting used to the stoic, cold emotionless Jackson. But-SMASH.

She swivelled on her heels, running to the door and throwing it open in a reflex instinct. The smashing sound came from downstairs, presumably from him. As her feet flew down the spiral staircase two thoughts crossed her mind. The first that instantly came to her was that she was going to die. This could be a trap, he could be preparing to- No. She pushed the thoughts from her head and remembered his unresolved threat.

_Are you going to kill me?_

The other thought was somewhat more dangerous to her- the crash could have been from something else. Had he hurt himself? He could have fallen and damaged himself on a bottle…or….?

Angrily, she shook her head as she touched down at the bottom of the stairs. Looking around, she saw the broken glass from a whisky bottle lying in the entrance to the living room, only a tiny amount of the dark liquid still oozed from the shards. Hurriedly she ran to the archway and looked down into the living room- it was empty, silent, apart from the sound of the whisky squelching underneath her feet. In a sudden flash her back collided with the wall of the arch, a hand wrapping around her throat. A strangled cry emitted from her as she struggled against the hand that pinned her down.

Those familiar icy blues glared down at her, a drunken glaze covering them. A new terror washed over her; he'd been drinking. Usually he was so controlled and so calm but now there was this crazed, lustful look that gleamed in his eyes and threatened her in a new way.

"Jackson, get off of me."

A shaky smirk grew on his face. Her heart began to pound- just as it had in her dreams. But this wasn't what she wanted- this was all too real.

"No Lis," he drawled. "No I will not get off."

The terror transformed into the urge to run; lock herself away until he sobered up and became the emotionless- but controlled man he always was. Her bathroom had a lock, if she could just get back upstairs- but currently she was stuck under the grasp of Mr Rippner. His hands were wandering, that feeling of being unstable was settling in with Lisa again- the memories of a car park.

With a wrench of her knee she managed to force it into his groin, sending him backwards with a grunt of pain. Her fight or flight instincts kicked in.

Pupils dilated, adrenaline kicked in and her legs moved of their own accord. She headed straight back for the stairs and everything seemed to slow down. Stress caused her to lose her peripheral vision and she could no longer see, or care about anything that wasn't running for her life and getting away from him.

The first flight of stairs gave her the rush she needed to keep running, keep her legs going, keep breathing. Live.

The sound of footsteps on the bottom of the stairs and the rough yelling of her name slowed her slightly. She arrived on the upper hallway, before she looked over the banister and saw Jackson running up the spiral after her. He was a lot quicker than her, even with the motivated adrenaline.

A small gasp escaped her mouth as she turned back to the hallway, the identical four doors, which was her room? Her scrambled brain tried to function before she turned back desperately, hearing a ragged breathing from behind her. Jackson stood, strong but slightly slanted with his arms holding him against the banister.

"Don't run from me Lis," he hissed, his words slurring slightly.

"Jackson, you're drunk. Please, just go and drink some water or something," she pleaded, stepping backwards away from him, holding her hands out in front of her trying to force him away.

"I can think of something better than water. C'mon Lis, don't say you wouldn't love to too," he smiled widely, stepping towards her.

Another surge of fright ran through her, her eyes widening. Running further down the hall, hearing his feet thudding behind her, she realised that there was no exit this way- just the glass panel instead of a wall.

A sudden realisation of speed caught up with her and she began to slow down because of the glass that shone in front of her. Inches from the wall, she halted, sighing in relief. Until Jackson's dead weight hit her back and threw her forwards with a great force. A flash of pain.

A large crashing sound was all Lisa could hear, along with pieces of light that danced in front of her eyes. Then her stomach turned and she fell.

And she fell.

For a while she felt as if she was flying; the wind whipped past her and the fall was impatiently serene. Then it hit her- what was going on- she had been forced out of a window on the second floor, smashed through a solid pane of glass and now was most probably going to die by cracking her spine on the ground below.

And she f-

A crack emitted from her arm as she collided with a tree that was situated below the window. The branches tugged at her clothes and pulled at her hair, slowing her down, saving her. But at the same time they were hurting her and burning her skin with each little whip of the branches against her. But her fall was slowed and the feeling that she would live began to wash over her-she could make it through this.

Lisa's inhibitions had kicked back in when she dropped onto the ground from the tree, a mere 6ft compared with the 20ft that should could have succumbed to.

Looking up from the concrete patio, she weakly saw Jackson looking down from the broken window, his eyes wide with fright.

As his figure disappeared from the window Lisa began to stumble to her feet, desperately trying to run towards the forest area. He knew she was alive and he would come back for her, to try to take her….again. Lisa picked up the pace, trying to ignore the blood dripping from all over her body and the cracking feeling inside her ribs as she entered the woodland area near the bottom of the garden.

The strange peace of the area made her pain that much realer, that much harder to deal with. About fifty metres into the woodland, Lisa let out another strangled cry of pain and fell backwards against a tree. She positioned herself underneath the twisted, raised roots, and clutched at her ribs before the pain overtook her and the day went black.


End file.
